I would like to set a goal for myself and for anyone who wants to tag along. All this week I will listen to only happy music. I will admit I sold out and began listening to Never Shout Never, but that is only because I read his article in AP magazine (he seems like a really nice, incredibly cool person). Today is a start because I got off the bus and the spring feeling filled me up like a glass of water, washing away any bad feelings. The first song that popped into my head as I began to walk down the sidewalk was “This Is The End” by The Maine, so I sang the words to myself and smiled. It made me happy just hearing John Ohh’s voice inside my head.

It is about 63 degrees outside and sunny with a slight overcast sky and a cooling breeze. The best type of weather I would say: cardigan weather. – When I reached my front porch I found my dad sitting there reading a book. I walked into the house and smiled at the reflection of my wildly curly hair and then placed my copy of The Maine’s Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop album into my CD player. I have begun to think of music in seasons and I can tell you The Maine sound so much like spring. The grass is starting to green and small flowers coil around fences only to be picked up and set in little girls’ hair.

I received several hugs today from Trinh and Taylor and reminisced with M and A about our day yesterday gallivanting around the neighborhood. (We walked over to The Sweet Guy and picked up gelatos, stopped at two parks, had a duel with the plastic and wooden swords I brought over, were chased by our younger brothers on scooters, told jokes about Geico Car Insurance, and made a sanctuary.) School wasn’t so bad and thankfully my science class didn’t have to make up the quiz about electricity and whatnot.

Right now while I am still listening to The Maine I just want to run or have someone to dance with. I am really hoping to the goddess Athena and even the titan Cronus that something good will come of this weather. I need something good in my life that will lift these heavy spirits. There are too many people and good friends that I know who are extremely depressed right now. Who knows maybe Elisha from HOLY Mountain will introduce me to some cool people (who are NOT annoying and immature) who just get music. Or maybe nothing will happen and I will just talk to him with Jane after their show on the 22nd.

“She could be rainy days, minimum wage, a book that ends with no last page. Whoever she is, whoever she may be one thing’s for sure, you don’t have to worry.” – The Maine

I don’t deserve anything I have. All the records I put forth my own money to purchase, my favorite grey sweater, and my favorite feather pillow with a deep green case. What have I ever done for anyone else?

I want to change the way I react to things. I know it is because of the build up of all the events of my day, but those feelings come out all wrong. Like tonight when I got mad at my little sister. I hurt her and she started crying and I had this smug grin spread my face. I’ll be honest- I am a bit sadistic, but I do feel bad afterwards. Though I know the next time I get mad my reaction won’t be much better. You can’t smother who you are, you can only bury it.

Today in geography class I heard about the earthquake in Haiti. (We are working on a writing piece about the earthquake.) Those people have nothing and suffer on a daily basis from poverty. They deserve what I have, a warm bed to sleep in, food on the table, and a cozy grey sweater. I know someone in that country is deserving of that.

Can you even believe it was a 7.0 earthquake? In geography class we looked at a map of tectonic plates and the earthquake wasn’t deep but Haiti was practically sitting on the Caribbean plate boundary so they got the worst of the plate shifting. And to think, they were just preparing for hurricane season when this hit. It’s estimated over 3 million people were killed, injured, or trapped underneath buildings. One of the worst parts, every single road is blocked and there is hardly anything we can do at the moment with an aftershock soon to hit.

When I told the news to my parents, trying to start conversation or debate the topic, the news didn’t seem to bother them at all. And that crushed me. I feel horrible and nothing has even happened to me. Now I sit here hoping the sound of Stephen Christian’s voice in “*Fin” will soothe me.

“Empty is the sky before the sun wakes up.
Empty is the eyes of the animals in the cages.
Empty are the faces of women in mourning
when everything has be taken from them.
Me? Don’t ask me about empty.” – Chiodos

I can barely stand to write about this right now for I feel I might just cry. Why oh why did Chiodos kick Craig Owens out of the band?! I only found out about this today, though it happened recently. Craig Owens WAS Chiodos. How could they kick him out just like that? So many times I turned to their music when I was feeling upset. Especially their song “No Hardcore Dancing In The Living Room”. Craig’s voice was what set Chiodos apart from every other band. (Though, I must say, the piano pieces were also very beautiful and Jason’s guitar riffs and hooks were pretty insane.)

I was on Polyvore looking at some girl’s set and she had commented that Chiodos kicked Craig out of the band. I thought I knew for sure this was a silly rumor. So I Googled it. Then I knew it was true when I saw that Alternative Press had covered this story. I read the article in shock, while inside I really did want to cry. I ran upstairs and yelled, “IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD.” My dad gave me a funny look then resumed watching something on TV. I ran into the kitchen and repeated myself, hoping my mom would ask what was wrong so I could rant.

I told my mom Craig had been booted from Chiodos and I ranted. All the while I told her this I almost started crying with sad, angry tears. How in the world could they make a new record and then decide that Craig can no longer be a part of it? How is that even fair?

Craig, I want to let you know that whenever you are touring with Isles and Glaciers or Cinematic Sunrise or even a solo tour and you happen to stop by Kansas City, I will be there to support you and your music. Though, nothing will ever be as amazing or the same as Chiodos. When Chiodos included you and Derrick Frost, you were the world to me. The old Chiodos still means the world to me. Now every time I shall listen to a Chiodos record, there will be a sadness left over.

My second week of school started today. I have one day down. I finished “The Perks Of Being a Wallflower” last week and I can say that it is one of my all time favorite books. It makes me wonder how some of the most simple books are so charming and so popular. Ah well, this book was an acception.

Nothing intersting happened today. I don’t have anything to complain about. School is alright for once. Oh, but today my English teacher was funny. We were discussing story plots and so she used Goldy Locks and The Three Bears as an example. “Goldy Locks is a little thug!” she said. Kids giggled but my English teacher was serious. “Walkin’ into those bears house. She outta think for herself!” I don’t have much homework yet, but I’m glad I have a little. I know most kids despise homework but I don’t know… it gives me a good feeling, it keeps me busy. At least so far. Oh and I learned the alphabet in French!

I just want Friday to get here! On Friday I will be going to see Blink-182 with Weezer, Taking Back Sunday, Chester French and the Von Bondies. Really, I’m only there for Taking Back Sunday but seeing Blink and Weezer is a bonus! AND my uber-rad cousin who took me to Warped Tour is going to accompany me yet again.

I think I’m going to finish reading “The Graveyard Book” by Neil Gaimen. I made a Tumblr account. If you ever wanted to check it out here’s the link http://www.thehumanbean.tumblr.com. I have also been writing a story and recently started posting it to Quizilla so I can get some readers! Though, I’m not too sure anybody is reading it other than a couple of girls on Polyvore…. Whoever is reading this post now, I would appreciate it greatly if you would read at least one “chapter” of my story! http://www.quizilla.com/stories/12970119/you-got-me-up-against-the-wall (Blackbyrd, if you ever read my blog anymore I swear to you my username is not copying off of you. Since my name is Phoenixx a friend of mine nicknamed me Birdie. When I typed in my username I didn’t check over it and it came out as bydiebirdie. Stupid, I know, but if you ever do read my blog anymore I just wanted you to know.) I guess that’s it.

Craig Owens’s screaming is calming me down right now. It’s keeping me in the clouds. His screaming does two things for me. Either I want to headbang to the sound of Chiodos’s music or I want to go to relax to it. Not that it’s boring, but that it calms me down and puts me in a mixture of reality and fiction. It’s like I could pretend I feel the same way as Craig did after his first love broke his heart (thus he wrote an album about her). Yet this time I feel more like the instrumental rather than the lyrics. It’s like when I was listening to Brand New’s Déjà Entendu record.

Press my face up against the glasswith both eyelids shut andbaby this won’t get any easierbaby this won’t get any easierbaby this won’t get any easier

I’ll lie on the dirty carpeting in my room (that can’t be fixed unless we were willing to pay for new wood floors) and breathe. I like taking deep breaths because it makes me feel a little better. It takes some of the frustration away. — I sound cheesy again. — When I push all the frustration back I feel like and old toy disguised as a new one.

It’s not a big deal. It has been three weeks since my last guitar lesson but I’m mad at myself. This is part of learning, but I am always angry at myself for not knowing what he might throw at me. School starts next week. I was supposed to read two non-fiction books from a list they sent me. I lost the list and didn’t read the books. I have to be tested on them. I guess I’m just looking for more stuff to mope about.

We all have our good days and our bad days, yesterday was a mixture of the two.

I wish I could play dead like Johnny Quid. Johnny knows a good RocknRolla is worth more as a dead man, so his record sales go up. Johnny is a clever junkie, but like any junkie, you can’t trust him. Why do I want to play dead? Simple, my summer is almost over and soon I’ll be heading to this unfamiliar new school. Wandering the halls mostly alone and probably keeping to myself most of the time.

I want to keep looking back to last Tuesday and thinking how quick a week goes by. Time is very frustrating. I have realized time almost always does the opposite of what you want it to do. I know school won’t be completely miserable, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m nervous like anyone else. I have my school supplies, some new clothes and a new pair of shoes (all black Authentic Vans to be exact), and my school books. Everything is set and I want to pretend like nothing is going on.

Yesterday was my school orientation. A woman in the office told me where to go to be assigned a locker and be given my books. It was overwhelming and I most likely blocked out what she was saying. “Where do we go?” my mom asked me. I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “I don’t know.” Why is it that whatever advice or direction someone gives me, it goes in one ear and right out the other? Oh right, because I’m in denial.

Sighing is nice. It feels like I’m releasing a bunch of toxins that had been in my lungs. I sigh often now. I am melodramatic and slightly hystrerical. What are ya gonna do?

I was panicking. We were living in a house with other vampires (think “Breaking Dawn” by Stephenie Meyer) who have all caught a disease. I don’t know what the disease is called, but it’s making them really hungry. Hungry for human blood. And I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to die because I don’t want it to be a gore fest. Whenever I read about vampires and events similar to this, I am not frightened. Of course it’s a book, but now after dreaming this, vampires are definitely scary.

My mom came home and walked into the bathroom. I opened the door to see her rubbing a washrag over her eyes. My mom put down the washrag; one of her eyes was an intense shade of red. She informed me about the disease, which turns out, is the reason why all the other vampires left the house. “Your scent was calling me back,” my mother said. I froze up and left the room.

There was a woman in the kitchen working on wooden crates. “These are for when it comes,” she said. ‘It’ meaning the slaughter. “Who is that for?” I asked, pointing down to a small crate split in half. The woman replied, “Your sisters.” I was scared and panicking again. I called my youngest sister into the kitchen. She tried to fit into one side of the wooden box and it wasn’t working. It was too small. I looked up at the woman and said, “She doesn’t fit.”